


Heroes and Consequences

by HypnoticNurse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consequences, Ethical Dilemmas, Gen, Heroes & Heroines, Moral Dilemmas, One Shot, Post-War, Power Dynamics, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypnoticNurse/pseuds/HypnoticNurse
Summary: It has been three years since Voldemort was defeated, and Minister Shacklebolt is still dealing with the fallout of that terrible year. One of his best Auror's has completed a year-long investigation, and her findings are anything but welcome.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Heroes and Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first foray into the Harry Potter fanfic universe! Thank you for taking the time to read this plot bunny I had after reading Grey Stains by [Wolfie_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481620/chapters/48600866) . 
> 
> This is set post Battle of Hogwarts and takes our dear Kingsley Shacklebolt a bit OOC. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story, and it sparks some discussion at the end.

“ BACK UP!”

The witch threw both of her hands up as her voice reverberated around the cavern.

She attempted to placate the horde of well-dressed goblins amassing around her. A heavily scarred goblin led the mob towards her, raising a clenched fist and barring his teeth.

“Back up?! You dare tell  _ us _ what to do?! THREE YEARS we have waited,  _ witch,  _ for your kind to take responsibility for the massacre they caused. Three years of NOTHING! We will wait no longer, we will have what is owed to us.”

“Nagnok, you know why I’m here,” she asserted, her voice clear and firm before the irate group of goblins, “I need to complete my report. It’s the only way you, any of you, will have any legitimacy to your claims for recompense.” She slowly lowered her right hand, and let it hang to her side. 

The goblins faltered and exchanged skeptical glances. 

“Never trust a wizard.” Nagnok’s gravelly voice echoed in the silence. “Nor a witch.”

The mob before her turned their full attention on her and resumed steadily moving towards her baring their yellow, jagged teeth. 

“Bugger”

Her wand slipped down her purple sleeve and into her hand. She closed her eyes as her wand shot forward and a blinding, brilliant light erupted over the encroaching goblins. The witch fumbled reaching inside her jacket before pulling out a small cylinder. She depressed a button apparating away, the shrieks of furious goblins fading behind her. Brown and black stone turned bluish-silver, becoming mist as Kingsley Shacklebolt raised his head out of the Pensieve sitting on his desk. He found himself once again sitting in his office as the Minister of Magic.

Leaning back and dragging his hand over his face, he considered the very witch whose memory he just left. The white, muggle ‘pantsuit’ she wore was appropriately adorned with a black button-up shirt and black stiletto boots. Her curly hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, immaculate. She easily could pass as a muggle, except for the alternating color of her fingernails. 

“Quite the dramatic exit, Auror Limbani,” his baritone reverberated around the silent office,

“Apparating out of Gringotts is no small feat, how did you manage that?”

Giving a small nod, Limbani quirked the left side of her face causing the only blemish on her left cheek, a half-moon scar giving her a permanent half-grin, to rise, “The rod was a spell beacon from R&D. I left the twin at the Three Broomsticks.” Her alto tone melded into the stillness of the room. 

Pulling out his wand, Kingsley pointed at the Pensieve and flicked it towards a slot in the wall. As the Pensieve floated away, Kingsley leaned over, opened a drawer, and retrieved a bottle full of amber whiskey and two tumblers. Pulling off the cut-glass top, he filled each tumbler half full.

“You did an excellent job, Limbani. Thorough, professional, and with solid evidence for most of these claims.” Sliding one drink across his desk, Kingsley continued, “Are you certain the muggle witnesses from the… uh, coffee? Yes, coffee shop, have all been obliviated, and no loose ends?”

Limbani took the offered drink, “Yes, Minister. Except for the businesswoman for plausible deniability, no others retain what occurred that night.” She took a measured sip and her espresso skin blushed as she swallowed.

“Hmm, so the Lovegood’s have no interest in pressing charges for the Erumpent horn explosion, anyone hurt during the Three’s infiltration of the Ministry have been seen to and no one is sympathetic to Dolores Umbridge’s claims. Aside from some minor infractions along the way, no one will particularly care to pursue, that just leaves the Gringotts incident to resolve.” Kingsley shifted uncomfortably in his chair, before standing up and transfiguring it into an overstuffed leather chair. Sitting back down, he crossed his left leg over his right and returned his gaze to the Auror across his desk.

She swirled the amber liquid slowly, mesmerizing waves rolled around the glass. “Well Minister, the goblins were quite specific in their demands before my interview became unpleasant. Full recompensation for repairs, compensation, and goblin corporal punishment for goblin lives lost, 10,000 galleons per wizard guard life, a replacement dragon, and a life sentence for the wizard responsible for use of the Imperius Curse on a goblin. If all demands are met, they are willing to forgo any violations of the Wizard - Goblin Non-Aggression Treaty.” She grimaced momentarily, “At least they were before they realized I was not a negotiator sent to accept their terms.”

Shaking her head, Limbani tipped back her glass and hummed as the liquid passed down her throat.

Kingsley scoffed, taking a large swallow, “At least they’re giving us some negotiating room. 10,000 Galleons per wizard guard and they lost nearly a dozen? Wishful, but we can work on that. A new dragon? No, the one they kept became a Merlin-damned PR nightmare after the torture they put it under became public knowledge.” Kingsley readjusted in his seat, “We’ve already assisted with repairs, and as for the goblin lives lost, well Voldemort is dead and any Death Eaters that can be tied to Gringotts have already been imprisoned or killed. I’ll bring it before the Wizengamot to use sequestered Death Eater accounts to cover the compensation in full. It does them no good to claim grievances from treaty violations when Voldemort overshadows nearly all of them. That just leaves their last demand.” He paused to take another drink, “Did they mention who this wizard is that used an Unforgivable on one of their own?”

Limbani’s lips pursed slightly, as if something bitter just passed over her tongue, “No. They only know one of theirs was controlled by it and that very goblin died when the dragon escaped.”

Tapping his chin, Kingsley smirked like a child getting the last cookie at Limbani, “Another victim of Voldemort’s followers. A shame.” Tipping his glass back, he polished off the amber liquid. “Tied up rather neatly...except for  _ how _ they know Imperius was used. The benefit is people don’t realize it’s been used on them unless the offending caster is inexperienced. So, Limbani, who told them?” He leaned forward in his chair, glass still gripped in his hand. 

A quirk of an eyebrow marked any surprise from Limbani, “Travers. Death Eater currently serving a twenty-year sentence in Azkaban. He was Imperiused during the infiltration by the Three, it was a ‘shoddy’ casting and he retained his memories. He told anyone that would listen after the Three escaped in what was an attempt to spare his life once Voldemort arrived and killed most present. The goblins heard this and accepted it over any possibility that one of their own would willingly betray them.”

Kingsley shook his head and began tapping his finger against the empty glass, “Limbani, come now. We heard this testimony from Travers during his trial. No one believed him. Dozens of witches and wizards laughed at him, hell the presiding judges added five more years to his sentence just for trying to besmirch the Three. His testimony holds no clout. Goblins are many things, but dumb is not one of them.” Meeting Limbani’s eyes, the weight of authority heavy in his own, “Who is the  _ actual _ informant?”

Limbani sat her glass down with poignant care on her armrest while drawing in a silent breath.

“Griphook” her tone emotionless, guarded.

Kingsley's eyebrows shot up.

“He’s alive?!” His shock was evident in his rushed reply.

“Yes, Minister”, Limbani’s mild inflection a sharp contrast to Kingsley’s surprise.

Recovering, Kingsley motioned for the Auror to continue.

“Per the Three’s own account, Griphook did betray them and attempted to escape. He was partially successful. He avoided Voldemort’s ire by getting his right arm crushed under falling debris. He eventually extricated himself and went into hiding. It took some time, but I did locate him. He stays on the move, and usually out of the country using goblin thoroughfares to avoid detection.” She stopped to wet her lips, and take another drink of her whiskey.

“And how did  _ you _ manage to find him?” Kingsley’s curiosity boiled over as the Auror took a small breath.

“By following the trail of the story. One banker heard it from another, who got the tale in a pub, that he heard during a game of cards, and so on until I ended up in one of the worst pubs I have ever seen. In a dark corner sat a one-armed goblin nursing a mug of ale and a first-hand account of the Gringotts incident.”

Limbani adjusted slightly, straightening in her chair. Her face neutral, professional.

“What did you have to promise to get his story?” Kingsley frowned, his voice hard and accusatory.

“That his testimony be officially recognized.” She said without emotion. 

Kingsley resumed tapping his finger as he mulled over the response. 

His finger froze mid-tap, “Clever little bastard.” A humorless laugh rumbled through his chest. “Get an official Ministry report to support his story, he takes it to the goblins, secures a place back in their society, and now Gringotts has solid evidence to back their claim of a treaty violation.” 

Fixing Limbani with a commanding glare, he growled, “Where is he?”

“I don’t kno-”

Kingsley came out of his seat and planted his hands on his desk.

“Don’t give me that, Limbani! You tracked him down, you wouldn’t just let a lead like that disappear!”

Limbani frowned, or her right side of her mouth did as her scar prevented the other half from following.

“I don’t know where he  _ currently _ is hiding, Minister.” A sharp meeting of wood and crystal punctuated her response as her glass came down. “Having survived for three years in hiding he is rather adept at preventing tracking charms, but I will know when he returns to that pub.”

“Has he?”

The Auror’s lips tightened and she brought her hands together and set them in her lap, “Not since I spoke with him.”

“You are to report the moment that goblin sets foot in that pub, and take a team to bring him in!” Kingsley’s voice hammered in the words like nails in a coffin. 

“Begging your pardon, Minister”, her voice wary “but, no.”

Silent as the dead would make for a poor analogy to the lack of sound in the minister’s office. Kingsley looked as though Limbani just spat in his face, shocked and appalled. His presence loomed over his desk.

“Come again?”

Her chest expanded as she took a deep breath, letting it out slow and measured, “No, Minister.” Her hesitation was replaced with steady confidence. 

“On what authority are you refusing, Auror Limbani?” His deep bass belied a barely suppressed fury.

“The Wizard - Goblin Non-Aggression Treaty.” Her nostrils flared even though her voice remained neutral. “Griphook has committed no crimes, save for breaking into Gringotts and that falls under Goblin jurisdiction. Going after him would be a Ministry sanctioned violation of the treaty, and that would put every wizard and witch in danger.”

“He could st-”

“And my oath as an Auror, to not overstep my authority and betray the laws I have sworn to uphold. The same oath you gave when you were sworn in as Minister of Magic, ‘ _for the_ _safety of all.’_ ”

Kingsley’s imposing form shrunk in as his anger guttered out. He lowered himself back into his seat, and uttered quietly, “For the safety of all...” 

The words hung in the air around them, taking up all the space in the room. 

He placed his elbows on the desk, and examined the empty whiskey glass, “That is the goal of an Auror, the safety of the wizarding community and beyond from the perils of dark magic. Protecting those when requested even when it conflicts with a direct order. I miss that simplicity.” Reaching over to the crystal decanter, dozens of defeated eyes reflect back as Kingsley refills his glass. “The trappings as Minister of Magic are not as glorious as the Daily Prophet or history books would have us believe.” 

He put the bottle down and sat back in his seat, staring without seeing over Limbani’s shoulder, “The stakes are far higher. A decision to benefit one group causes hardships for three others. Duels are with words and an ink-soaked quill tip.” He tipped his glass back and emptied half before continuing, “It’s preventing future Dark Wizards by sparing their Death Eater parents a Dementor’s Kiss, and making their victims' families accept there will be no resolution for their grief. Telling the press that all the allies of Voldemort have been dealt with when there are werewolves and giants still at large because the truth would cause fear and panic. Trust in the Ministry would falter and ultimately the peace we have battled to obtain would vanish.”

Polishing off what remained in his glass, he sat up slowly and studied the witch across from him.

“A small price to pay for peace and security is how it was described to me. I do not know I ever truly believed that to be the truth.”

Setting his empty drink to the side of his desk, Kingsley slumped back into his chair. “Tell me Limbani, have you considered what would happen if the goblins decide to retaliate for a treaty breach? Hard to get access to your money when the place you store it at isn’t allowing witches or wizards in. How many in our community can make it more than a few weeks without access to their savings? What will happen when the goblins release their proof to the general public? All because they have one credible witness, in their eyes, to support their claims?”

He raised his right hand, the same he made his unbreakable vow with and studied it as if for the first time.

“You know, Limbani, I had hoped when I took over as Minister that there would be a special election to vote in someone who wanted this position; however, that is not the plan. The Wizengamot has postponed the next election until all loose ends are tidied up from the war. All the appeals, countless accusations still to sort through, Dark wizards and creatures to apprehend, and one pending treaty violation that could cripple the economy.” Spinning on his heel, his stoic appearance was sunken, replaced by the responsibility of the wizarding world's problems. “I grow tired of fighting as a politician, and seeing these loose ends cleaned up has become my purpose. Will you let your findings remain here in this room and go no further?”

Limbani remained impassive during his monologue. She leaned forward and grabbed the decanter, refilling her empty glass. Raising it to her lips, she took a small sip, “Good Firewhisky. Hard to find since the Death Eaters destroyed so many distilleries three years ago. The process to make it like this is precise and does not allow for compromise with ingredients, time, and conviction.” She brought the glass eye level and looked through the amber liquid, “It’s one of the things I always appreciated about a proper Firewhisky.” She looked back at Kingsley, her eyes hardened, “Losing any of those leads to an inferior product and loss of reputation.”

Kingsley heaved what air remained in his lungs out in an exaggerated sigh and let his hand fall back to the armrest. “You’re not one of the best by accident.” He pushed up out of his chair and motioned for Limbani to remain seated. Facing the wall behind his desk he gazed over the several sleeping ministers and the few still awake. 

Limbani remained silent, save for the sound of her glass being set down on Kingsley’s desk. Her eyes were fixed on Kingsley’s form, yet they looked beyond him. Her attention on something thousands of meters away. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the armrests of the chair, returning her focus to the man before her. 

“I will not leave this here to be buried.” Her multi-colored fingernails flashed as she held up her hand stalling Kingsley from replying, “That does not mean I am blind or numb to your reasoning to see this wrapped up here without further discussion from other factions in and out of the Ministry. I am simply not sympathetic to your wishes for a compromised hero to be the foundation we place our trust in for safety.”

Kingsley stepped forward, gone was the exhaustion replaced with a quickly growing ire, “Careful with your words, Auror.”

Sighing, she averted her eyes to the fireplace.

“Minister, I have seen what happens when you allow the protectors to go unchecked and idolized by those they are supposed to serve. Eight years ago I was sent to North America to assist MACUSA for a year as a good-will gesture between our countries. I had barely unpacked my bag before getting assigned to a serial murder case. The slug sucker was drowning his victims by casting  _ Aquamenti _ into their lungs. It took five months and thirty more bodies to finally track him down. Do you know where we apprehended him?” 

Kingsley furrowed his brow and shook his head.

“At his desk in the MACUSA Auror department. See, in the USA they propagandized becoming an Auror for generations as the peak authority of fighting evil. It was so ingrained into their general consciousness that the mere possibility of one of theirs going dark was never considered. I held no such convictions and once the connection between the victims was made the evidence pointed straight at him.” She relaxed her grip, bending forward and putting her face in her hands. 

“I wish it made a difference that the murders were publicized and drastic changes were made after his arrest, but they brushed it off as a one-time occurrence. They buried it as quickly as they could, just like the Grindelwald infiltration nearly eighty years before. Shoring up their crumbling pillars of justice with empty reassurances and well wishes.” Looking up at Kingsley, her eyes burning with resolve, “After that case, I made an oath to never put the Ministry before the safety of my community.”

Limbani stood up to her full height, squaring her shoulders and clasping her hands behind her back. 

“I have heard all the arguments for what the Three did during the war, and I do not have qualms for most of what they did to survive. Except for Gringotts. They made impossible decisions, and they must be held accountable. Ignore bringing them to justice opens the door for others to follow their example. Why report a muggle to the Obliviation Department when I can do it myself? What would Harry Potter do to get information from a suspected Dark wizard? If our heroes can do it why should I be any different?” 

Taking a deep breath, Limbani relaxed her posture and softened her tone, “Minister Kingsley, please reconsider your wish to simply bury this and let the Three get away with a capital offense! I do not have any say over their punishment, but something is better than nothing. I will be turning in my official findings tomorrow to all departments involved.”

Kingsley deflated and turned towards the fireplace, “You are dismissed, Auror Limbani.”

Limbani nodded, her heels echoed around the room as she made her way to the door.

Kingsley silently raised his arm towards her back, his wand falling out of his sleeve into his hand. He aimed it at Limbani’s back and whispered, “ _ Obliviate.” _

“NO!” 

The room faded to silver and blue as the spell erupted from Kingsley’s wand and connected with Limbani’s back.

Hermione Granger pulled back from the Pensieve, sweat trickled down her back like tiny rivulets of ice. Her chest heaved to and fro, her mind raced worse than a swarm of pixies in an extremely small room.

Reaching over the swirling vortex of silver in the Pensieve, she pressed an intercom button. 

“Hanna.”

“Yes, Minister?”

“Send Auror Potter to my office at his earliest convenience.”

“Of course, Minister.”

Her hand trembled as she pulled it away from the intercom. The office spun around her, and she grabbed her desk to steady her racing thoughts. 

She counted her breaths until the ground felt sure under her and the room stopped dancing around her.

Standing up, she straightened her robes and walked around her chair to face the wall of Ministers. The horror, shame, and anger tunneled her vision on one portrait chest level and dead center on the wall. Their eyes met and she stood but a few feet away, freezing him with a stare lesser men would run away from at first glance.

“I would have words with you, Minister Kingsley.”

End

**Author's Note:**

> A few people I would like to thank in the making of this One-Shot that took WAY too long to complete.
> 
> My one and only, amazing! beta reader [Yearofthekoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yearofthekoi/pseuds/yearofthekoi) . They are doing some phenomenal Full Metal Alchemist fanfic, and y'all should definitely check it out. I only have readable material because of this person.
> 
> [Jayalaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayalaw/pseuds/Jayalaw/) for offering up some wonderful discussion on making this story better and encouraging me through it.
> 
> [Hiccupfound](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725760) is the inspiration behind our unnamed serial killer's use of Aquamenti. Check out their Not Quite Dark Magic fic for more unorthodox use of seemingly harmless spells.


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